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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26638291">Soft Rock</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Strawberry_tree/pseuds/Strawberry_tree'>Strawberry_tree</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Men's Football RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M, Pre-Sane running off to Bundesliga and breaking my heart</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 08:29:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,506</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26638291</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Strawberry_tree/pseuds/Strawberry_tree</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Benjamin finally decides to act on his nefarious thoughts. Poor Bernardo.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Benjamin Mendy/Bernardo Silva</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. This little piggy cried "wee wee wee" all the way home.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>If old western showdowns had been reincarnated, it would be currently occurring in the dressing room. </p><p>The young men hovering in the space were all sinewy muscles and sweaty backs. Two were breathing particularly heavy, like two bulls pawing the earth in preparation to charge. Stood between them was a tired Belgian, his shirt flung over his shoulder.</p><p>“Guys, resolve this peacefully please. Everyone has enough to think about without teammates fighting.”</p><p>Kevin De Bruyne’s attempt at de-escalation would prove successful, if only due to the appearance of the team’s camerawoman. Her bright smile posed a sharp juxtaposition to the general mood, but they still grinned good-naturedly at the lens. Gabi was front and centre, throwing balled socks at the brunette.</p><p>The two instigators would find themselves face-to-face again hours later. This time the backdrop was a plush, white apartment.</p><p>“You don’t take me serious when I tell you this. You’re always having fun of me.” Bernardo continued to lament. His skin, unmeasurably soft, was reddening behind the facial hair. Mendy failed to hold in a snigger, the offensive sound escaping behind his large hand. Bernardo rolled his eyes. The short Portuguese had been toeing the fine line between anger and annoyance for weeks. Being easily offended would prove exhausting for any male footballer, but Mendy had surpassed what was acceptable- he had planted himself firmly beneath the other man’s skin.</p><p>“Bernaaaardo. Bernardo, calm down. We can discuss this later.”</p><p>“No, now. Today is the last day I’m telling you. If you keep this up, I’m going to beat you like you’re my son.” The midfielder shot back. He pressed his finger into his teammate’s chest to stipulate the threat. Still, the smirk remained on Benjamin’s face.</p><p>“So you will be my papa?” He joked. He plucked the little offending digit off his chest, pulling it to his mouth. “That’s not realistic my friend.”</p><p>Silva’s retort died on his lips as he found his finger engulfed in a hot cavern. His green eyes bulged comically as he snatched his finger back to cradle it, as if the wetness coating it was acid rather than harmless saliva. “What the fuck are you doing?” The shorter man snapped, stepping back. “Don’t play like that!”</p><p>Mendy closed the short space Bernardo lamely tried to create.  The nebulous look in his eyes was not lost on his former friend, nor was the tight grip he had on the hem of the younger man’s top. A sense of danger was growing; whether it was misplaced or not was yet to be determined.</p><p> “Do you still think we’re here to <em>talk?</em>” The question was a gentle murmur. Mendy’s hand was making its way up Bernardo’s short. The smattering of hair there excited the Frenchman. He stroked the spot once more.</p><p>“Yes, I came here to talk. Stop touching me! You’re not acting right today Menji. Something is up. Seriously.”</p><p>“Am I a talk show host? Talk about what?” He surmised. The condescending tone stung; Silva clenched his fists. “Short legs, remember when I told you I only invited people over for two reasons? Hmm? What did I say those were?”</p><p>Bernardo scrunched his brows. Realisation dawned slowly as cold sweat washed him. His mouth seemed to dry instantly, leaving his tongue to cling to the hard palate.</p><p>“Come one little man- what were they?” Ben prompted, pulling him closer by his shirt.</p><p>“To- to party…”</p><p>“Or?” Benjamin stretched the garment as Bernardo tried to move back.</p><p>Bernardo swallowed thickly, finally looking up into Ben’s clear eyes.  “Or to fuck.” He finished. Mendy was still chuckling.</p><p>“Correct. Now look around,” He commanded. The sprawling white apartment was empty, bar them. “Does it look like I’m throwing a party?”</p><p> </p><p>If Bernardo’s recent combative behaviour hadn’t been begun so abruptly, maybe Mendy would had been able to predict his reaction, thus avoid the punch. Unfortunately, the cocky 6-footer believed he could bulldoze Silva into bed in his usual autocratic manner. The searing pain in his jaw was all the rebuttal needed. Bernardo was done being the whipping boy.</p><p>“<em>You sick fuck”</em> Was all the English Ben could decipher amidst the spluttering, raging Portuguese. ‘<em>Paneleiro</em>’ made frequent cameos, as did ‘<em>Puta que pariu’</em>. When the strong white leg struck out, Ben caught him around the ankle and held steadfast.</p><p>“Let go of me! You’ve gone too far. What do you take me for?” Between trying to get his leg free and jab Benjamin in the stomach, Bernardo’s neck became trapped beneath Ben’s armpit. The fissure of anger exploded in his chest as he tried to tug his head out. A kitten with it’s head between a gate came to mind when Mendy grinned down. The smile vanished when Bernardo sunk his teeth into his forearm, firm as a bear-trap.</p><p>“Biting Bernardo? Really? At your big age?” Benjamin joked, now dragging the man towards the stairs. He had almost gotten used to the pain of all 32 teeth locked into his skin when his teammate decided to let go. Pinching was the final tactic when punching failed. The petite Portuguese could have rivalled De Bruyne in the red-faced category.</p><p>Mendy grabbed the waist of Silva’s jeans, launching him onto the four poster bed. There was no time to scramble off before he was crushed by the larger man. “I’d love to ease your mind and say I was joking, but I’m serious. I’ve wanted you from way way back.”</p><p>The strange way Mendy was staring into his eyes made his fighting response fail. He looked almost- pathetic? Suddenly, it was his childish, energetic friend before him, rather than an overpowering beast intent on fucking him. Well, he still wanted to bang him, just less aggressively.</p><p>“Ben, today, I’m not playing with you. If you have suddenly become gay, go and experiment with someone else. Okay?”</p><p>Ben shook his head causing their noses to brush. “No, I want you.”</p><p>“I’m not an option Ben. Get up. You’re heavy.”</p><p>“I have chosen you already. Now c’mon. Let’s take some clothes off.” Mendy straddled him. He whipped his black t-shirt off. The large chain thudded onto his chest, glittering and expensive. He was an Adonis.</p><p>Silva held up a finger and closed his eyes. “Put it back on.”</p><p>“No. Look at me, I’m gorgeous. You should be grateful.”</p><p>Bernardo kneaded his brows, “Grateful for what, you mad-man?” When his assailant replied ‘<em>me of course’</em> he groaned. If he was not resolutely convinced that his teammate was unhinged, he would lament about all the years of comradery lost. But as things stood, it would be better to lose the friendship, and keep his anus intact. He had seen Mendy’s package before, and no. Just no. Even if he was into men. Never.</p><p>“Ben, I am going to leave here, go home to my girlfriend and forget this ever happened. Tomorrow, we will say good morning and nothing more. No mention of this ever again.”</p><p>Mendy was lazily rubbing his abs, slow and steady. “Liar. You don’t have a girl,”</p><p>“I do Ben!”</p><p>The Frenchman tutted, holding back a laugh. “You don’t. Leroy told me. He said you’re <em>so</em> sad over your ex. Basically begged me to find you someone, so I figured, now’s my time to shine.”</p><p>Mendy moved his hips, stopping the conversation. He pinched the bottom of Silva’s top, lifting it up to peep underneath. “Skinny men are not usually my style, but Bernardo, you have me weak. I even like that you’re hairy.”</p><p><em>Was this actually happening? </em>His green eyes were fixed on the ceiling. The seductive rubbing on his stomach continued.</p><p>“Let’s make a deal. Okay. Give me today to think about it, and I’ll let you know tomorrow. I need time, no? It’s a lot to take in.” The younger man finalised.</p><p>Ben was shaking his head mutely. He’d rubbed a thumb over Bernardo’s nipples and now his penis had become his commander.</p><p>“Please. Just one night to think?” Puppy dog eyes were activated. Ben stood no chance. He’d forsake his penis just this once.</p><p> </p><p>It wasn’t until Bernardo was safely in his own home, with his housemates walking around that he began laughing. He was doubled over in minutes, tears streaming down his heated cheeks.</p><p>“Nardo, are you going mad?” His oldest friend, Alex asked. The photographer was halfway through a bowl of cheerios but paused to take in the spectacle.</p><p>A brown-haired girl walked slowly down the stairs. “Is he okay?” She asked.</p><p>Alex shrugged. “Must have had a weird day.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Protagonist? Check. Bernardo was perched on a kitchen counter, glaring bullets.</p><p>Antagonist? Check. Mendy was reclining in an armchair, manspreading to the max.</p><p>Reluctant mediator? Check. Leroy stood rubbing his chin at the centre of the parlour. </p><p>“I’m not sure why everyone had to come to my house, but okay.” Sane spoke, his accent thicker in the quiet house.</p><p>Mendy shrugged. “He refused to come back to mine, so what other option but here?”</p><p>“For obvious reasons. Pervert.” Bernardo said lowly. The man was tired. Tired from matches, from the trolls online, and most of all, Ben’s apparent aspirations of being the world’s biggest pervert.  </p><p>“Not so obvious to me. We could be on our way to being a happy couple by now but you want to be difficult. Tsk.” He flicked his hand in the air to emphasise his annoyance. His crush-cum-victim balked at the audacity.</p><p>“You really are a madman. 100%”</p><p>Leroy placed his mobile on the counter. Instagram’s allure didn’t stand a chance against his idiot teammates’ antics. “Truthfully Mendy, you can’t force him to like you. If he said no, then it’s a no.” Unfortunately for the winger, this wasn’t the first time he’d explained this. It hadn’t worked the first seventeen times, so he highly doubted it would now.</p><p>Mendy absentmindedly picked fluff from his pants. “Didn’t your baby mother turn you down at the beginning?” He asked lazily. Leroy nodded. “Did you give up, roll over and say <em>Eh, better luck next time?”</em></p><p> Leroy scoffed. Seeing Ben exasperated was a funny sight indeed. “No Ben, I did not say that.” He replied, rolling his eyes at the sarcasm.</p><p>“So why should I do it? He’ll love being with a man in the end. He already loves my dick.”</p><p>Sane froze. “Come again?”</p><p> “He loves my dick.” He pointed at the shocked man on the counter. “Tell him little man. Since you want everyone to know our business.”</p><p>“Go fuck yourself.”</p><p>Benjamin laughed. “You can speak like that only because Leroy is here. Wait until I hold you later.”</p><p>Sane had done a 180 degree turn to face Silva. The pale man shrivelled under his stare. Their abstruse pairing was . “Bernardo, you actually let him fuck you? In fact, don’t tell me. Let’s just fix this so I can have peace.”</p><p>Ben stood up, pacing towards the pair. “Why don’t you want to know? You were the one who begged me to help him before he died from blue balls.” He accused.</p><p>“Hold on, I said to find a <strong>woman</strong>  to help him. I never said to rape him. Don’t put that on me! Plus, that was before I knew you liked him.”</p><p>“What rape? He wanted it nearly more than me.” The taller man now stood parallel to his target, jutting a finger into his chest.</p><p>“If that is so, why do you need me? Sounds like you’re doing just fine.” The curly-haired man surmised, snatching his phone up as it pinged. Candice, his partner had sent him a stream of scantily clad pictures, all based at a nearby hotel. <em>Definitely had to wrap this up ASAP, pronto, vamos. </em>Their daughter was on holiday with her grandparents and Candice went full nympho-mode whenever they fucked somewhere new. They had christened nearly every hotel in Manchester. All except one.</p><p>Ben had taken to tugging on the strings of Silva’s hoodie, smacking Bernardo’s hands away when he tried to pry him off. He deftly dodged the Portuguese’s kicks, used to the man’s mode of attack.</p><p>“Not that simple my friend. I somehow like this scrawny thing more than he likes me. Maybe even love. But this midget only accepts sex. It’s a big problem Leroy.” Bernardo cuffed him around the head, before sliding off the counter.</p><p>“It’s a disgrace say love. We fuck sometimes, argue all the time, that’s it. You don’t want more Ben, you just think you do. I’m an idiot to have given in and slept with you in the first place- knowing it won’t go anywhere.”</p><p>Leroy slipped his phone into his back pocket.</p><p>“So you hate that he’s a pervert, or hate that this… <em>thing</em> might not last?”</p><p>“No. No ‘might’, it definitely will not.” Even as he spoke the words, he was unsure of their validity. Over the weeks since Mendy had first jumped him, he had softened under the paroxysm of affection. Found himself texting him after tough matches, or for a recipe for French pastries. The more vicious, teasing aspect of their friendship had lessened, creating space for softness. Each mundane exchange made the yearning too palpable.  </p><p> </p><p>     “Mendy we can’t. Not here. Mendy!” Silva struggled to speak through the kisses. The warm hand wrapped around his dick was gently teasing him, pumping at a snail’s pace. He’d lose his senses shortly, turning to putty under the ministrations. When Ben bent to his knees, his eyes bulged. “Hold on. I’m not ready for that yet Ben. Come back up.”</p><p>Mendy scoffed. <em>Poor me, falling for a near-virgin. </em>He had been spoiling him, allowing Bernardo’s hesitation to determine the pace of their relationship. Just for today, he’d be entirely selfish.</p><p>He pulled Bernardo’s bottoms down, revealing his large hand fisted around him. He slowly licked a thick line from the bottom of his partner’s dick to the tip. Bernardo released a strangled noise. He guided the tip into his mouth then the back of his throat. It wasn’t long before Silva’s hips began bucking. His moaning became grunts as he fucked Mendy’s mouth. <em>And he said he wasn’t ready yet.</em> He grabbed Bernardo’s ass, pulling him closer, swiping his tongue side to side beneath his phallus.</p><p>“Fuck Ben, fuck. I’m gonna cum.” The younger man panted. Bernardo failed to grasp Mendy’s buzzed hair, instead tugging on his ears. Mendy felt like a trophy cup. The Frenchman rolled his eyes mid face-fuck. <em>This boy was taking the piss, clearly. Did he think his face was a Flesh-lite?</em></p><p>When the shorter man came, he did so violently. Shaking, swearing, panting all before crumpling onto Ben. Mendy swallowed calmly, hugging the man back.</p><p>“You said being sexual would be too gross. Look at you now, falling all over me.” Ben teased. He grabbed Bernardo’s chin, feeling the stubble there. “Tonight, we're going to do this properly. All the way.”</p><p>That was how poor Leroy found them the first time- Ben gripping Bernardo’s face as he sat atop him. “Fucking hell guys. What do you call this?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Part 1/2. Written after I watched compilation videos of Bernardo being bullied by MCFC. 10/10 would recommend.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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